


Tea with Seven Sugars

by sciencebutch



Category: Doctor Who, The Incredible Hulk (Comics)
Genre: Gen, self indulgent fic ahoy!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencebutch/pseuds/sciencebutch
Summary: The Doctor gets back to his TARDIS to find the Hulk in his console room. They have tea.
Relationships: Eighth Doctor & Hulk
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Tea with Seven Sugars

**Author's Note:**

> *does a gay little dance that pisses you off*

The Doctor walks into the TARDIS after a day of shopping. It was quite a long and lengthy affair, rather a hassle, really, as he tended to always go to the same farmer’s market on the same day - even in different bodies. (There was a lettuce farmer there with _exceptional_ produce, and he never could find anyone else who sold arugula of such high quality). So, the past few hours had been a bit of ducking and weaving through crowds, avoiding figures in rainbow coats and Scots holding question-mark umbrellas and celery as a whole - his fifth self spent a whole six hours at that booth, once - while trying to find _just_ the right time to slip in and buy honey before his fourth incarnation came in and purchased the lot. 

Usually his companions wanted to tag along, despite him assuring them that _no, there are no alien threats this time_ and _no, I won’t get involved with the authorities in any way_. For some reason, they had the oddest habit of doubting him when he said such things, though he never did understand why. But his most recent companion, Bruce Banner - an Earth scientist of some renown, who he’d found half-naked in a ditch in New Mexico - had remained in the TARDIS, claiming that a sort of general malaise had come over him.

So, the Doctor had ventured out alone, only to come home to find a huge green man in his console room. This was certainly not the oddest thing to happen to him today, but it was still very, very odd indeed. He put his groceries down by the door.

“Ah,” he said, somewhat surprised, “Hello.”

The stranger grunted. He was shirtless, about seven feet tall, very muscular, very green, and he was crouching on a stack of Persian rugs, holding a mammoth finger out for Stewart to hang on. Jasper was sitting in his nest of dark hair. 

“Can I help you?” He was anything but impolite. Most of the time. 

Stewart flapped his wings a bit, and the stranger huffed what must’ve been a laugh, smiling a smile that revealed teeth like small stones. 

The Doctor decides upon a different approach, and wishes he hadn’t put his groceries away, because slamming them down on a surface would’ve made a certain dramatic impact that, in hindsight, he would’ve been very fond of. “How did you get into my home?” 

He wonders where Bruce had gotten to, then realizes that he’s probably holed up in his room somewhere, all sick. He makes a mental note to get him some medicine later, once he’s dealt with this.

“Hulk live here,” the stranger - Hulk, probably. A rather apt name - says, looking at the Doctor like he was stupid. 

Odd, he felt like he would’ve known that. “Guess I missed that particular memo.” 

Hulk snorted, but didn’t respond further. Instead, he gently rubbed Stewart’s stomach. _He might actually be telling the truth_ , the Doctor thinks, _what with how affectionate the bats are to him_. “How long have you lived here, Hulk?” 

Hulk shrugs. “Three.”

“Three what?” 

“Don’t know. Time weird here. Hulk just say random number.” 

Ha ha. The Doctor pursed his lips, then did the only thing he knew to do when an unplanned guest arrived: offer them tea. He found it eased tension, rather. Also, he really liked tea. 

Hulk did not seem as fond, for his face scrunched up in disgust. “Banner drink. Gross. Leaf water.”

The Doctor didn’t know what a _banner drink_ was. “Well, I’m going to make some, if you don’t mind.” 

He could feel Hulk’s eyes on him the whole time, but he pretended not to notice. His gaze was wary, alert, as if he didn’t trust him. The Doctor figured that it should be the other way around.

When he had a very lovely chai steeping in a very lovely porcelain teapot, he placed it on a tray with two cups and a tin of sugar. Carrying it to the spot in front of Hulk, he sat down, pulling a cushion under him. Jasper and Stewart leapt from the Hulk, flew around in his hair a bit, and then took off towards the rafters. They had a habit of doing that, and it always made his curls even more messier than they were wont to be. 

“Bats like you,” Hulk observed.

The Doctor hummed affirmatively. “They’re my friends.” He filled a cup, then filled it a bit more with seven spoons of sugar. “They seem to like you as well.” 

Hulk preened, then he pointed at the small mountain of sugar that was being constructed in his teacup. “Sugar?” 

“While most connoisseurs look down on such a thing, I find tea a bit bland without it,” explained the Doctor, adding a splash of cream as well.

“Hulk have some."

“Sugar?” the Doctor questioned, cocking his head.

“Tea,” Hulk paused, before tacking on a, “And sugar.”

The Doctor grinned. “Of course.”

“Lots.”

“Ah, someone with taste I see.” 

Hulk grinned at the praise. He was rather like a child, the Doctor noticed, with his monosyllabic vocabulary and reactions to positive reinforcement. 

The Doctor handed Hulk a saucer, which he held between his thumb and forefinger. It cracked a bit under his grasp. “Oops,” Hulk said.

The Doctor waved his hand dismissively. “It’s perfectly alright, I have plenty more.” He tended to buy more than one set, for just this reason. Well, not _just_ this reason, but reasons similar; he one hosted for an alien species who ate ceramic. It wasn’t their fault by any means, more the Doctor’s for forgetting outright. 

Hulk sighed, relieved, then watched intently as the Doctor took a sip of his tea. He mimicked him almost exactly then, raising his pinky finger and holding the handle very daintily. The Doctor observed from behind his cup. 

Hulk swallows and hums. “Sucrose.” 

Raising his eyebrows, the Doctor responds, “Yes, table sugar. How’d you know that?”

“Banner word,” Hulk mutters, shrugs. 

The Doctor puts two and two together, then. “I take it you know Bruce, then?”

Hulk huffs, frowning. “Stupid Banner. Not letting Hulk come out for tea and sugar or bats.”

Somehow, the Doctor finds himself even more lost. “I don’t follow.” 

“Keeps Hulk locked up! Doesn’t let Hulk explore TAR-DIS or smash or play with bats. Stupid.”

The Doctor becomes a bit concerned. Was Hulk a failed science experiment Bruce had brought into the TARDIS when he wasn’t looking? And he kept him locked up? Bruce didn’t seem like the type to do that, not at all. He didn’t really match the general stereotype of “evil scientist”, either, though the Doctor should know by now not to judge a book by its cover. How did he not notice? Usually he was the epitome of insight and observation. “I’ll have to have a stern talking to him, then,” he says somewhat acerbically. 

“Talk to Banner? Tell Banner to let Hulk out?” 

“Yes, I will, Hulk. You shouldn’t have to be locked away.” This was rather distressing news. 

Hulk puts his cup down, a relieved expression on his face. “Good. Doctor talk to Banner. Good. Hulk will go now.”

“What--”

The Hulk was shrinking, he was shrinking, and the Doctor watched, transfixed, as the green receded from his skin and the Hulk was suddenly a perfectly ordinary man on a stack of carpets. A rather familiar, ordinary man. (Although, the Doctor supposes, he wasn't so ordinary after all.)

Ah. This makes a lot more sense, in the way that things that don’t make sense make sense because they make more sense than what was thought previously. If that makes sense. 

Bruce Banner groans, raises a trembling hand to his forehead. He catches the Doctor’s eye, freezes. 

“Hello Bruce,” the Doctor grins. 

Bruce lets his head fall back to rest on the carpet, as if all strength had been sapped out of his neck. “‘M sorry. Should’ve told you.” 

“Maybe.” 

“I just... needed to escape. Sick of hiding.” He speaks with no low amount of self-hatred.

“I understand completely.” 

“You want me to leave now, I take it.” says Bruce, as a statement instead of a question, as if he already knows the answer.

The Doctor cocks his head. “Why?” 

Bruce blinks. “Because of. Of him.”

“Hulk?” the Doctor supplies.

“Yeah. Him.” 

“I thought he was great company.”

Bruce blinks, his face goes blank - so shocked it couldn’t even muster the muscle to convey it.

“We had tea,” the Doctor elucidates, smiling, and Bruce looks as if he might faint. “By the way,” he begins, “Do you want an extra pair of clothes?”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr!](%E2%80%9Ceightdoctor.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)


End file.
